The Gender Bending continues with Kyle Schuler. Here is how it works:
Several authors submitted pieces they had lying around. I asked only that they choose something that would not easily be identified with their writing style. Fans can easily pick up on an author's voice, and since several of the authors are very well known, I didn't want people recognizing specific writing styles.
When an author didn't have pre-written piece, they wrote a piece just for this blog, primarily because we knew that once it hit the interwebs, it would become a freebie for everyone.
We took a brief hiatus for the holidays; however, I'm back now and will be running posts until we reach the end of the contest. Please keep your comments focused on the question at hand.
As always, please don't break my website.
Here we go ...
READ THIS FIRST: The rules and the prizes. Your mission: comment on whether you believe the author of this excerpt is male or female.
Untitled by Kyle Schuler
She wouldn’t look at me.
Standing there, lost in the trees, all I want her to do is give me one sign…just one. If she so much as whispered my name, or glanced at me, I’d be there. If she said, kill…I’d storm that fucking fortress and everybody inside it would be dead in a moment.
But all she did was sit there, huddling behind that big-ass tiger and clutching a borrowed coat around her narrow shoulders. It was dark out but not dark enough. I could see every bruise on her and I wanted to break something.
If somebody breathed too loud, she flinched and I couldn’t stand it.
This was the mean, ball-busting little bitch who’d once pulled a blade on me. When she was afraid, she kicked people in the teeth. When she was nervous, she mouthed off. And if she was pissed, you better check her hands for sharp objects.
Screams raged inside my head and I turned away. No matter how many times, I tried to block it out, I kept seeing her as she came tearing out of the big pile of stone behind us. I’d thought…
No, man. Don’t go thinking.
If I started thinking, I was going to remember what she’d almost done. What she might still do if she thought she had a chance.
And if I kept looking at her, I thought maybe I was going to be the one to lose my mind. I couldn’t do this. But I couldn’t walk away from this place, either. Shifting my attention to the fortress in the mountains, I flexed one hand, felt the monster inside me roaring, trying to come to the surface. He was a mean-ass bastard even under the best circumstances. And when another broken gasp came to me on the wind, I had to admit…these weren’t the best circumstances.
She wouldn’t look at me. Wouldn’t let me get near her and any time I tried, she backed away like she thought I might hurt her. The bitch of it all…I even understood that. If I didn’t do something, I was going to explode. The monster raging inside me saw to that.
I didn’t bother stripping out of my clothes as I slid off into the night. The shift took care of them. They fell in shreds around me and I paid about as much attention to them as I did to the snow blasting again my skin. I knew it was there, but I didn’t fucking care.
There were only two things that mattered—one of them was behind me…and she didn’t want to see me.
The other was in that huge mausoleum of a house and as soon as he came out, I didn’t care if he was under guard or not, I was going to rip him apart. I’d bury my claws in his gut and then rip him apart. I could already smell the acrid, rotting stink of his blood and the burn of anticipation was the only thing that had made me feel good since this nightmare had started.
Hiding myself in the shadows, I looked back at her. She huddled against the tiger and I whispered, “I’m so damn sorry.”
But it didn’t matter. I hadn’t protected her. The one thing I’d promise her and I’d failed.
No wonder she didn’t want to look at me.
I didn’t think I’d ever be able to face myself again, not after this.